Every Hero Has The Right To Bleed
by sweetkiwi604
Summary: Murphy had taken the bite out of the forbidden apple and Connor paid the price. One shot. Complete.


**Just a short little drabble that was inspired by a paragraph I was sent out of an Irish folklore book.**

Every Hero Has The Right To Bleed

The MacManus brothers stood in the alley, backs leaning against the brick wall just watching the hustle and bustle of the city. It had been eight years since they were last in Boston and the city appeared as if nothing had changed at all, but they knew it had, they could feel it in their bones. Connor made a comment about the cold as he pulled the pea coat tighter around his body and Murphy nodded in response. The snow held a graceful beauty but the bitter cold left something to be desired. Their breaths mixed with the smoke from their cigarettes, creating a mix of white and gray puffs like a reflection of their souls. The purity of the white from their breaths showed their intentions and beliefs as they followed their calling from God. The gray tainting the crispness, showing the guilt that slowly clouded their minds as it dawned on them that they have ripped lives away from families that will forever miss them. There was always that ever present chance that one of them wouldn't walk away from a job but their father's voice resounded in their minds.

"_The question is not how far. The question is, do you possess the constitution, the depth of faith, to go as far is as needed?"_

The fear was hidden behind their eyes, clouding the blue like the smoke did their soul. Something felt different about this job, something that they pushed down though because they believed it was for the greater good.

"Ready me dear brother," Connor threw him a smirk in hopes of hiding his own concern. Murphy flicked his cigarette into the snow and with a single nod they rounded the corner with guns drawn.

Even with gloved hands each bullet was shot with truth and justice, the smell of gun powder heavy in the air as they swept the courtyard. Connor turned to the left as Murphy took care of the right, every step and pull of the trigger synchronized. Bodies hit the ground and shot fired at the twins until there was no one left standing. It was over, they had done the unthinkable but instead of being filled with relief or hearing Connor's exclamation of praise there was an eerie silence.

The guns fell from Murphy's hands as he saw Connor on his side, a repugnant red staining the snow around him. Murphy felt something inside of him missing before he even made it to his brother. Turning Connor over carefully, Murphy's eyes filled with tears. This wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to patch each other up and soothe each other's wounds, anything but saying goodbye.

_Connor sat on top of the table as Murphy placed the dishrag in his mouth to stifle the cries of pain. Rocco had originally tried to hand off the hot iron to Murphy but he refused to take it and moved behind his brother instead. His heart was already tearing at his chest at the thought of his brother being shot and to be the reason for anymore pain was almost unbearable. Murphy put his chest right against Connor's back and hung onto the either side of the dishrag to keep his brother in place. He could feel Connor's body go rigid the second Rocco had the iron to his wound and he vowed in that second to make that man pay. Whoever, wherever, he was he wouldn't get away with this if it was the last thing Murphy did. He was broken out of his need for revenge as Connor reached his arm back and held onto Murphy, pulling what strength he could from his twin. The wound in Murphy's arm protested but he locked the pain down and focused on his brother as Connor tugged at his short hair at the base of his neck. _

_Tension was thick and the smell of blood high in the small apartment. Connor had opened the few windows to try and get the stench of burnt flesh out of his nose while Murphy glared at Rocco wanting to blame him for the job going wrong. Rocco chained smoked cigarette after cigarette unable to deal with the magnitude of the situation until he locked himself in one of the bedrooms. It was better that way for now, to have some time to digest what happened before something got said that wouldn't be able to be taken back._

_There was a hope that the dark of night brought with it, the only light coming from the moon that sat high in the sky. Connor was on his back, his face a mask of pain as Murphy watched him almost afraid to tear his eyes away as they shared the queen bed in the other room. Murphy had insisted he could have taken the couch but Connor needed his brother close to him that night. Today had been too close, they had a calling from God that they would uphold, but there were men in the world that would just as easily trade money for lives. _

_Temptation crept into Murphy's mind, the snake offering the forbidden apple that he knew he was supposed to deny. His faith told him that the devil would come in the form of what he desired most but at that moment he craved his brother. Throwing caution to the wind and taking a bite out of the apple that was sure to leave him in a deep slumber, Murphy leaned over and kissed Connor. Their lips had touched only the briefest of seconds but Murphy didn't miss the calm the washed over his twin. There was no going back now and Murphy rolled further onto him. He was surprised as Connor responded just as hungrily, his kisses slipping and falling from his grace, landing in his brother's soul. _

"_I won't let you fall," Connor promised before falling asleep._

There were no final words spoken. Connor was gone, his eyes already clouded. His mouth hung slightly open, a heartbreaking revelation that Connor's last attempted breath had been formed around his twin's name. Kneeling in the snow, Murphy didn't move. He just cried, sobs breaking him from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to get away from the smell of gun powder and oil that was still filling his senses. Murphy's hands were frozen as they fisted around the pea coat that was soaked in the lost life. A black crow cawed from the iron fence it had claimed as its perch. Steam rose from the earth, almost as though it was hell's fires attempting to lick to the surface in search of the life it considered its prize.

Murphy prayed harder than he ever had, fighting for the purity of his twin's soul to outweigh the interrupting, guilty smoke that swirled around it like a lion on its prey. The crow's calls broke across the sobs, a final reminder that the soul was now lost, forever unclaimed and wandering the infinite winter that was death.

Murphy had taken the bite out of the apple, uncaring about the consequences, until it was his brother- the other half of his soul- that was left in a slumber he couldn't be awoken from.


End file.
